


Acts Of Contrition

by Rae_Roberts



Series: Werewolves AU [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Bottom Sam, Come Marking, Dominance, Hand Jobs, M/M, Male Slash, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Rough Oral Sex, Scent Marking, Submission, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Benny Lafitte
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2018-12-30 20:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Roberts/pseuds/Rae_Roberts
Summary: As if Sam running out on him wasn't bad enough, it turns out Dean's wayward not-brother ran out on Benny, too.   With Sam's duel with Jake Talley looming, the last thing Dean wants is to deal with his emotions.  Not to mention, dealing with two disgruntled alphas and THEIR emotions?   Son of a bitch!A two-chapter detour from 'Road Trip', taking place between chapter 6 and chapter 7.   Absolutely shameless, utterly gratuitous smut.





	1. Penance

“Come on, Rache, time to go on a beer and snacks run.”

“Ugh. Boys are gross.” Shaking her head, Rachel hurried out the door with Jo. 

 

Benny chuckled as the women fled the room. “Your turn, Dean,” he said when the door had slammed shut behind them, gesturing him toward Sam with a wave of his hand. 

Dean didn’t have to be told. He stepped up to Sam eagerly, eyebrows arched in inquiry, although he already suspected what Sam had taken from him as a spell component. 

Sure enough, “Blood,” Sam murmured, golden eyes widening in shock as Dean grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled his head down for a kiss. 

Any doubt that his not-brother still felt a powerful attraction for him was banished when Sam wrapped him up in a crushing embrace, literally lifting Dean’s feet off the floor. Dean tried, but couldn’t quite stop the low, shuddering moan that tore from his throat at the manhandling. Sam inhaled deeply, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along Dean’s jaw and down his neck, desperately drinking in his scent like a drowning man gulping for air. 

“No fair,” Dean growled, fingers threading roughly through Sam’s hair. It was his moose of a not-baby-brother’s own damn fault he’d been missing Dean. And there was still that maddening blank nothingness when Dean inhaled, the conjure still in effect until he marked Sam with his blood. Dean pulled Sam back to his mouth, the growl still rumbling in his chest deepening when Sam didn’t catch on to what he wanted. 

Sam got the hint when Dean bit into his lower lip. He bit back, hard. Dean rasped out a sound that was half laugh, half groan of sheer relief as Sam’s familiar scent washed over him. He worked his bloodied lips over Sam’s jaw, reveling in the rasp of his stubble, nuzzling his face into Sam’s neck as the alpha’s muscular arms held him tight. All the pain and anger of betrayal melted away. All the anxiety in anticipation of Sam’s duel with Jake Talley receded. Nothing existed outside the circle of his mate’s warm, secure embrace. 

“I’m thinkin’ it’s ‘bout time for my turn,” Benny Lafitte let a long minute pass before he spoke up, abruptly reminding the pair of his presence. 

Dean moved aside, responding to the Cajun alpha’s undeniable power and charisma. Any self-recrimination he might have felt at his omega wolf’s automatic submission was instantly forgotten when he saw Sam’s reaction. His tall, strong, annoyingly domineering not-brother was blushing, his cheeks bright pink. Sam was literally hanging his head, his shaggy, too-long hair falling over his downcast eyes.

Benny didn’t immediately step up to Sam the way the rest of them had. Instead, he turned to Dean. “I don’t see spit or a stray bit of hair bein’ the cause of such a guilty conscience, do you?” Dean shook his head, not trusting his voice. Benny turned that intense, golden gaze of his back on Sam. “What’d you steal from me, Sam?”

“You already know--”  


Benny cut him off. “I know. I wanna hear you say it.”

“Semen,” Sam murmured after a beat. 

Dean couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Leave it to his bookish not-baby-brother to use medical terminology instead of just saying ‘cum’ or ‘jizz’. In any universe, Sam Winchester was a giant nerd.

“This revelation come as any kind of shock to you, Dean?” Benny asked, his tone dry. 

“No. But it’s not as if we were together when you two hooked up.” Hell, Sam had stamped out any notion that he was Dean’s mate when he’d ditched him. The memory was a bitter one, the pain Dean had pushed aside just minutes ago flooding back as raw as the day he’d woken up alone at Bobby Singer’s place. 

“It was nothing,Dean,” Sam growled, raising his head to glare daggers at Benny. “Just a one night stand.” 

Dean wondered if Sam realized how hollow that anger sounded. And how false, nothing more than a show of bravado summoned up to defy the older, more powerful alpha. But to his surprise, Benny didn’t argue. 

“You used me, had sex with me jus' to get what you needed for the conjure," Benny growled at Sam. "Habits you pick up in the hunter’s life,” he explained to Dean. “Don’t leave no lil’ traces of yourself. I don’t even drink in company.” 

Dean remembered the bar he, Jo, and Rachel had tracked Benny to. The Cajun hadn’t joined him in drinking the whiskey on the table, and he realized he hadn’t seen Benny with so much as a cup of truck stop coffee in the days since. But something about Benny’s story didn’t add up. Dean had his own habits from decades in the life, and one of them was a heaping dose of skepticism. He knew a lie when he heard one. “You’re paranoid about hair and spit, but you don’t bother to glove up when you have sex?” he demanded, eyes narrowing.

Benny didn’t blush, but Dean felt the heat of his embarrassment and knew he’d struck a nerve. “Made a mistake, didn’t I? Let my guard down.”

“It was a mistake on both our parts,” Sam spoke up. “It never should have happened.” 

“Bullshit.” Dean felt a little thrill of satisfaction when both alphas’ eyes widened in surprise. “Rachel and Jo brought me up to speed on the reputation Cajuns have in this world,” he confronted Sam, “but you put him in charge of security? Over the objections of anyone else you were working with, am I right? You trusted Benny. And you trusted Sam,” Dean continued, addressing the Cajun. 

“A lapse on my part, like I said.” Benny’s anger simmered, raising the temperature in the cramped little room. “Won’t happen again.” 

“Bullshit,” Dean repeated. “A guy like you doesn’t let another pack’s alpha order you around, chain you up like a dog--” Sam drew in a sharp breath at that but Dean ignored him, “--for somebody you’ve written off. And you, Sam, I figure you can be just as cold and ruthless as my brother could, but even when he was without a soul, he never whored himself out for spell components. I don’t believe you did, either.” 

“You two big sasquatches care about each other, so man up and cut it out with the bullshit denials,” Dean concluded, with the obligatory eye roll to express his opinion of having to be the one to point the obvious out to them. What, were they all back in middle school now? 

There was silence for a minute. Then Sam said plaintively, “Where does that leave us, Dean?”

“I’m wonderin’ where that leaves all three of us,” Benny echoed. 

“I don’t know,” Dean began, and had to stifle a groan at Sam’s kicked puppy expression. “Dude. I don’t _know_ ,” he groused. “A love triangle with two other guys? New territory for me, here, remember?” As was talking about it, Dean thought, resigned. Why did emotional stuff always have to involve so much talking? With an exaggerated sigh at the surprisingly girly demands of alpha males, Dean soldiered on through the quagmire of feelings. “Am I still pissed at you, Sammy? Hell yes. Am I jealous? Yeah, I am, but I also don’t want to waste what little time we have on crap that’s over and done with.” Dean switched his attention to Benny, determined to lighten the mood and shut down this interminable discussion. “Mostly, I’m curious.”

“Curious?” Benny’s eyebrows drew down in a frown of confusion.

“Yeah,” Dean smirked. “Curious what you’re going to do to Sammy for stealing your precious jizz.” 

“Ah…” Benny drew out the single syllable consideringly, his deep baritone making Dean’s heartbeat pick up its pace. He grinned that familiar, cocky grin. “Now what are we gonna do ‘bout that?”

_We_. Dean’s cock sprang to attention. He looked over at Sam. Judging by the erection tenting the front of his jeans, Sam was aroused, too. Although, judging by his downcast eyes and the fresh blush heating his cheeks, that arousal was accompanied by a healthy dose of apprehension. 

Good, Dean thought. He couldn’t help it. He snickered.

“You play nice, now,” Benny said mildly, but even the hint of rebuke was enough to wipe the smirk off Dean’s face. He stood silently, waiting with unabashed fascination to see how the older, more powerful alpha would handle their wayward Sam. 

Benny finally stepped up close to him, running a hand through his hair and down to his jaw, tipping Sam’s chin up, forcing him to meet Benny’s eyes. “We can do this the easy way, or the world o’ hurt way. Your choice.” 

Sam literally squirmed. Dean could just imagine the conflict wracking his not-little-brother. Of course he could. Sammy just wouldn’t be Sammy without that defiant streak of his. Sam straightened his shoulders, shifting his posture to square off against Benny and Dean shook his head, expecting all hell to break loose between the two alphas. Then Sam caught his eye. 

Yeah, Dean thought, an audience to what would most likely be Benny delivering an epic smackdown would be the last thing Sam wanted. Not that Benny’s ‘easy’ option was going to be all that easy for Sam to swallow. Not judging by the bitch-face Sammy was pulling at the thought. Dean kept the smirk off his own face with an effort. 

Sam backed down from his belligerent stance. “The easy way,” he rasped out at last. 

Benny didn’t say a word. His hand was still gentle on Sam’s jaw, lightly stroking his face, but as the silence stretched, Dean tensed. _Sam_ , he warned, lips moving without sound.

“May we do it the easy way? ...Please,” Sam said, catching on, and Dean let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. 

“That’s the way I like it. Nice and easy,” Benny’s smile was practically feral. “Shirt off, _cher_. You too, Dean… If that notion sits all right with you?”

“Hell, yeah.” Dean grinned, stripping his shirts off over his head before the words had left his mouth. Sam scoffed at his horny not-brother’s eager response, but pulled off his own layers of t-shirt and plaid flannel and tossed them aside casually. It seemed he’d resigned himself to playing along, at least for now. Benny laid a hand on one broad shoulder, pushing Sam down to kneel on the floor in front of him. 

Dean palmed his cock through the fly of his jeans, mesmerized at the sight of Sam shirtless and submissive. Sam’s shoulders shifted back, pecs flexing as Benny positioned him with his arms crossed behind him, each hand gripping the opposite forearm.

Benny gestured Dean over, indicating the space right behind Sam. “This ever stops bein’ fun for you, _cher_ , you jus’ say stop. ‘S all up to you.” Benny laid a big, warm hand on Dean’s bare shoulder, the contact sending a delicious shiver down his spine, and moved him into position close behind Sam, chest to back, hips pressed up tight against Sam’s ass, Sam’s arms trapped between their bodies. “That oughtta do it…

No, not quite.” Benny frowned as he looked them over, making a theatrical little show of considering how he’d placed them. Then he flashed teeth and fangs in a grin, that cocky expression so familiar to Dean from the vampire Benny he’d known from Purgatory...Not that _that_ Benny had ever filled his stomach with butterflies like this world’s Benny was currently doing. “Drop trou, boys,” the Cajun ordered. His grin only widened as Sam started to unclasp his arms. 

“Uh-uh.” Dean smacked him lightly on the shoulder, reminding him to keep his hands right where they were. With a grin that echoed Benny’s, Dean reached around Sam’s waist and undid his fly, pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs so his cock could spring free. Dean ran a hand up the impressive length of it, already hard and straining in his grip, before a glance from Benny had him hurrying to unfasten his own jeans. His hands were practically shaking with eagerness as he pushed them down to his knees. 

Benny leaned down and clapped his hand over one smooth cheek of Dean’s bare ass, chuckling as Dean stifled a yelp, startled at the unexpected touch. He put a hand on Sam’s hip and guided them back into the position he wanted them in, Dean’s chest pressed up against Sam’s broad back.

Sam breathed out a quiet sigh as Benny pushed a booted toe between his knees, widening his stance so Dean could press his cock into the cleft of his ass. Dean nuzzled the nape of Sam’s neck, loving the mingled heat of their bodies fitted so perfectly close, the way Sam’s scent enveloped him. God, he’d missed that so much. Dean raised his head as the soft rasp of fabric alerted him to Benny unbuttoning his fly. Speaking of curious, he thought, watching with unabashed interest as Benny ran his fist up the length of his thick, rock-hard cock. 

“You wanna suck my cock, Sam?” Benny chuckled and shook his head as Sam nodded. “Nah, you don’t get nothin’ if you don’t ask nice.”

Dean could feel Sam’s spine stiffen, the alpha struggling, caught between his natural instinct for defiance and Benny’s demand for obedience. “Please, Benny.” Dean instinctively wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist, holding him close as he caught the pleading whine in his tone. “Please. I-- I want to-- May I suck your cock?”

Benny groaned, a deep, guttural noise of pure need as he watched Sam’s internal battle. The Cajun’s pupils were dilated, his breathing shallow, eyes gone whiskey-dark with lust. “Ah, you got no idea how you wreck me--” he murmured. Recovering himself, Benny turned that amber gaze on Dean as he fisted his cock, rubbing the head of it over Sam’s lower lip. “I figure Sam’s gotta pay penance for desertin’ from his pack. You bein’ his mate, I figure it’s up to you to grant him his absolution.”

“Huh?” Dean’s brain was positively addled by lust. 

Benny grinned. “I say he don’t get to come. Not with me. You wanna let him afterwards, maybe, that’s up to you.”

“Aw, Sammy…” Dean hid a smirk against his mate’s shoulder. He felt a twinge of sympathy when a needy whimper slipped from Sam’s throat, but that didn’t stop him from reaching around to fondle Sam’s balls. How many times had Sam subjected him to that same teasing torment? As far as Dean was concerned, a little payback was only fair.

Benny stifled any other noises Sam might have made with his cock, teasing himself partway into Sam’s mouth, then slowly pulling out before thrusting back in. Dean cupped Sam’s balls, rolling the heavy orbs between his fingers as he rocked his hips back and forth, stroking his cock against the cleft of Sam’s ass. 

It didn’t take long for Benny to signal his first climax with a growl that sent shivers down the spines of both Winchesters. He pulled his cock out of Sam’s mouth, smearing the scant traces of clear fluid over the alpha’s lips and chin. Dean had to suppress a whimper at the musky tang of the big Cajun’s cum. The scent seemed to go from his nostrils straight to his groin, and he gripped Sam’s hips tight, grinding him back against his cock. 

Sam moaned, rolling his hips in time to Dean’s thrusts, clearly giving in to Benny’s domination. “May I please suck you off again?” 

“I cain’t say no to that, _cher_.”

The supercharged sexuality of an alpha werewolf meant Benny would orgasm multiple times before finally being sated. Practically dizzy with lust, Dean wondered desperately if the Cajun planned to deny him like he was denying Sam. He must have whimpered out loud in spite of his efforts not to, because a moment later he felt Benny reach down and ruffle his hair. 

“You wanna come now, Dean?”

“Yes, sir,” he said without hesitation, the honorific so deeply ingrained it spilled from his lips without conscious thought. Dean’s fingers dug into Sam’s hips, forgetting about teasing him, his whole focus on thrusting up against him, straining toward his climax.

“You do that, _cher_.” Benny fisted a hand in Sam’s hair as he used his mouth, fucking his cock into that wet, willing heat with a smooth roll of his hips, then leisurely dragging it back out as Sam sucked and licked avidly. 

Dean moaned his approval. He couldn’t see the expression on Sam’s face, but he could just imagine it: Sam’s lips stretched open wide to accommodate the thick girth of Benny’s cock, his forehead wrinkled in that adorably nerdy expression he got when he was deep in concentration. Any other time, that mental image would make Dean laugh, but not now, not with the noises of Sam’s lips smacking and tongue slurping in positively pornographic accompaniment to Benny’s deep-throated growls of pleasure. Dean let out a shout and came, stars sparking and wheeling in his vision as his climax shuddered through him. 

Benny followed right after, fisting the base of his cock and spurting cum onto Sam’s chest. Sam growled in frustration, his needy, aching cock bobbing each time Dean thrust up against his ass, riding out his orgasm. Benny loosened his grip on Sam’s hair, threading his fingers through the long strands, stroking it back from his forehead. “‘The wages of sin’,” he chuckled, silencing any retort Sam might have been tempted to make with a finger pressed to his lips. “Uh-uh. No complaints outta you. Pay your penance...Dean.”

Dean blinked up at the Cajun. His brain felt like mush, his legs rubbery in the aftermath of his climax, but the instinct to obey had him hurrying to straighten his posture when Benny said his name. “Yes, sir?”

“You ready for more?”

“Yes, sir!” Dean grinned. That aspect of lycanthropy was _awesome_ , as far as he was concerned. His cock was still hard and ready for another mind-blowing werewolf orgasm. 

“Now, don’t you neglect our Sam this time around,” Benny told him.

“Oh...No, sir,” Dean said, realization dawning. He shifted one big, calloused hand from Sam’s hip to his cock, giving it a firm stroke that tore a moan from Sam’s throat. 

Dean tilted his head to reach Sam’s neck, leaving a trail of love bites that reddened the sensitive skin and dragged more incoherent noises of mingled pleasure and frustration out of his not-so-domineering-now-are-you-Sammy? mate. He kept stroking Sam’s cock, wrapping his other arm around Sam’s torso, his free hand splayed across Sam’s chest, holding him close. The crack of Sam’s ass was slick with Sam’s sweat and Dean’s cum, and he angled his cock lower, so the tip pressed against Sam’s tight, puckered pink hole with every thrust. 

“ _Dean_...” Sam rocked his hips back in time to Dean’s rhythm, moaning his name as Dean teased his straining cock, keeping him on the brink of orgasm. “Benny...Please…”

“You want my cock down your throat, _cher_?” Benny didn’t wait for Sam to answer. He took a fistful of Sam’s long hair, holding him still as he slid every last inch of his cock into his mouth and down his throat. 

The Cajun set a brutally fast pace, and Dean felt a tremor run through Sam with every thrust as he struggled not to gag on that monster length. “Just relax and take it, Sammy,” he encouraged him. “I got you.” A deep, possessive growl shuddered through him as Sam leaned back against him, letting Dean cradle him in his arms. 

“You’re doin’ good, Sam.” Benny’s voice was strained. He fisted the base of his cock, pulling out of Sam’s mouth with a groan as his climax began. “Come for me, Dean.” 

With a shout, Dean obeyed, grinding up against Sam’s ass, moaning his not-brother’s name. Benny growled as his own orgasm shook him, shooting that monster cock’s load onto Sam’s chest. 

As always, it seemed to take an eternity for Dean’s climax to wind down. He leaned his head on Sam’s shoulder, arms wrapped tight around Sam’s waist, Sam and Benny’s mingled scents wrapped warm and comforting around him like a child’s favorite blanket. 

Dean muttered an incoherent protest as he felt Sam move, but Benny shushed him with a chuckle. The big Cajun had knelt down on the floor with them, Dean realized dimly, and was releasing Sam’s arms from their locked position, crossed behind his back. He let out a contented sigh as Sam leaned back into his embrace, even closer now that his arms weren’t trapped between their bodies. 

Benny was rubbing Sam’s shoulders and arms, big hands kneading any traces of tension from his muscles, murmuring endearments. To Dean’s ears, it was all an indistinct, Cajun-accented lullaby. He was drifting off, dazed and contented, only faintly aware when the big alpha finally stood up and adjusted his clothes. 

Benny reached down and ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, a gentle caress. Dean grumbled as the soothing touch turned rougher, Benny chuckling as he dug his knuckles into Dean’s skull, rousing him from his happy doze against Sam’s back. “You best not fall asleep, now,” he warned. “Gotta get Sam cleaned up before the girls get back, or Jo’s gonna be kickin’ your ass.”


	2. Absolution

“You heard the man. Time to get cleaned up,” Dean ordered Sam jovially. Sam reached for the shirt he’d tossed aside earlier, shooting his mate a frown when Dean deftly kicked the little pile of clothing out of reach.

“Dean! I was just going to--Hey!” Sam protested as Dean shoved him out the door.

The seedy motel room didn’t have its own private bath. A sign on the door at the end of the hallway indicated the shared bathroom. Dean rattled the doorknob, grumbling softly when it refused to turn: locked. He looked to Sam, barechested and rumpled, and covered from chin to navel in cum. “Well?”

“Well, what?” 

“Bang on the door and tell’ em to hurry up!” 

Sam glared, but raised a big hand and knocked politely. “Erm, could you please hurry? Bit of an emergency,” he explained, apologetic.

“I’ll say it’s an emergency. We got a big, jizz-covered sasquatch out here, needs a shower, stat!” Dean yelled.

“ _Dean!_ ” Sam’s expression was classic bitch-face as he fussed, “It’s rude to involve other people in your kink.”

“So says the exhibitionist,” Dean scoffed, grinning. “Hey!” he protested as Sam pushed him into an alcove. 

Sam slammed him up against the wall, silencing him with a deep, passionate kiss. “Now who’s a jizz-covered sass-whatever?”

Dean grimaced, but not from Benny’s cum now smeared all over his own torso. “Dude. There’s like, decades of piss on this floor,” he complained. Clearly this was where the residents of this dump relieved themselves when the bathroom was occupied. The bite of stale ammonia had his nose wrinkling in protest, glad--for the moment--that the moon cycle had dulled his senses. 

“Ugh, sorry.” Sam looked chastened. “Dean, you deserve so much better than this--”

Dean shook his head, laying a finger against Sam’s lips to silence him. This was far from the reunion he’d been hoping for, but with Sam’s duel with Jake Talley looming large, Dean wanted to keep their time together as lighthearted as he could. 

Sam’s hangdog expression brightened at the sound of the bathroom door opening. “Come on.” The alpha yanked Dean out of the hall and into the bathroom, fumbling the lock closed and pressing him back against the wall with another kiss. 

The intensity of that simple contact had Dean melting into Sam’s embrace, drinking in his taste, his scent and the heat of his bare skin. He let his hands roam over Sam’s back, savoring the smooth expanse of skin stretched taut over rock-solid muscle, as if his palms and fingertips had been tasked with mapping every contour for posterity. 

Sam’s own hands were busy caressing Dean’s biceps, traveling up to his shoulders, then down his sides to his waist, as if the alpha wanted to touch every inch of him all at once. He dipped his fingers below the waistband of his jeans, splaying them across Dean’s lower back, tilting his pelvis for maximum contact as he ground his hips against Dean’s. 

That contact wasn’t nearly enough, not through the confines of their clothing. Dean pushed Sam back, breaking their kiss with a low growl of frustration. He bent down, fingers plucking impatiently at the laces of his boots. “Clothes, off. Now.”

Sam’s grin was wicked. “Bossy, bossy. You want my clothes off so bad, Dean, you can just take them off.” He leaned back against the grungy tiles, arms crossed behind his head, feet braced wide apart on the floor, posed for all the world like a model in some glossy magazine spread, instead of a penniless hunter in a rundown residential hotel. 

Dean scoffed even as he let his eyes rove over his mate, admiring the display. It seemed Sam had picked up on Dean's unspoken desire to pretend this was just an average afternoon, to draw a mental boundary around these precious hours. Dean wanted to lock out any recollection of the long months they'd endured apart. He didn't want to waste a single second on worry about the duel to the death scheduled for later that night. Sam licked his lips and Dean grinned as his pulse kicked into high gear. _That's the ticket, Sammy_. He kicked his boots aside, tossing jeans and socks and boxers after them a moment later, then crouched at Sam’s feet, nuzzling his face against the long, lean curve of Sam’s inner thigh as he untied the laces of Sam’s work boots. He pressed a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses up Sam’s thigh and over his crotch, smirking as Sam’s hips bucked up and a low, needy moan tore from his throat. Dean shifted his hands to Sam’s ass, fingers digging into the soft, well worn denim to grip one pert, perfect cheek in each fist. He took the waistband of Sam’s jeans in his teeth, working the buttons of his fly open one by one...Taking his sweet time.

“Ah, you’re such an ass.” Sam was out of patience. He pushed Dean away and hurried to wriggle out of his clothes.

Dean laughed. His teasing had gotten just the reaction he wanted. Then he yelped in surprise as Sam scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder. Sam stepped into the tub, yanked the mildew spotted curtain closed, and deposited Dean under the showerhead. “Son of a _bitch_! No fair!” Dean groused as Sam turned on the tap and a stream of cold water struck him, instantly raising goosebumps. He struggled to get out from under the shower, but Sam had a tight grip on his upper arm, holding him in place. 

“Aw, it’s just a little water, baby,” he grinned. Sam turned the taps with his free hand, adjusting the temperature. He released Dean then, moving close to join him under the spray and reaching for a sliver of soap some previous occupant had left behind. Sam quickly lathered his chest, then reached for Dean and started started soaping his chest and abs, washing away every trace of the sticky mess their latest sexual escapade had left behind. “I like Benny, but I don’t want his scent on you,” he said firmly.

“Jealous, Sammy?” Dean smirked. 

Sam growled, a deep rumble that went straight to Dean’s cock. “You’re _mine_. I don’t mind sharing once in a while, but when it’s just you and me?” He cupped Dean’s chin in his hand, turning his face up to lock eyes with him. “I want you all to myself. No scent of other alphas on you, and you better not be thinking of anybody but me. You're all mine.”

The possessive growl roughening Sam’s voice drove Dean wild. “I’m all yours, Sam. Always,” he promised. 

Sam turned him to face the wall, one arm wrapped tight around Dean’s waist, holding him close, reversing their positions from earlier. 

Dean spread his legs wide and braced his hands flat against the wall, lost in a delirium of pleasure as Sam took his cock in hand, every stroke sending stars reeling in his vision. Sam’s mouth left a trail of love bites along his jaw and down his neck, and Dean hardly even grumbled when Sam’s fangs sank deep into the muscle of his shoulder. Hell, he’d even missed being his crazy werewolf mate’s chew toy. Sam was rutting his cock up against the crack of Dean’s ass, mirroring what they’d done earlier. Dean rocked his hips to Sam’s rhythm, moaning and growling wordlessly as his climax built and built until, with a shout, he came in Sam’s fist.

Sam lapped up the blood from Dean’s shoulder with another one of those deep, throaty growls. Dean realized abruptly that Sam was still thrusting against him, still frustrated and aching with need. “Whoa,” he murmured, “Benny sure did a number on you, didn’t he?” Benny had told Sam he couldn’t come unless Dean let him. Apparently, the powerful Cajun alpha’s influence still held sway. Dean turned to face his mate and lined his cock up against Sam’s. He’d just climaxed, but one of the best perks of lycanthropy was that he was still hard, already up for another round. Dean took the impressive length of both their cocks in a firm grip, stifling Sam’s needy whine with a deep, demanding kiss. 

“Dean…” Sam groaned his name, head thrown back, panting, muscles trembling. 

“You want me to let you come now?” Dean grinned, loving the sight of his mate falling apart with lust, eager to see him blissed-out and satiated. 

“ _Nngh_ ,” Sam’s lips pulled back in a snarl, baring his fangs as he fought to keep himself under control.

“Stubborn,” Dean chided. His voice dropped into a deeper register as yet another orgasm crashed over him. “Come with me, Sam,” Dean rasped, clinging tight to his mate as he rode out the endless waves of pleasure.

Sam wrapped his arms around him, rocking them both as Dean slowly drifted back to earth. The hot water of the shower had run out. Vaguely, he was aware of Sam turning off the taps. Sam stepped out of the tub, one hand on Dean’s shoulder, holding on until he was sure he was steady on his feet again. 

“Seriously, Sam? I know you’re stubborn, but this is a whole new level.” His not-brother’s cock was still erect, arched and straining and leaking pre-cum. 

Sam grimaced as he worked his boxer-briefs on, the fabric clinging to his wet thighs. “Primitive warriors would deny themselves release before going into battle,” he said, imparting this bit of history trivia matter-of-factly as he tucked his cock and balls into his damp drawers. “I figure, anything to give me the edge in this duel.”

“Uh-huh.” Dean drawled his skepticism as he wrestled his own clothes on. Too bad neither of them had had the foresight to bring along a towel, he thought ruefully. “Even you aren’t that much of a nerd. You just can’t stand to admit that Benny dominated the hell out of you,” he said, chuckling at his not-brother’s self-induced discomfort. “But hey, if that’s how you want to play it off, go ahead and enjoy your blue balls.”

“Whatever,” Sam tossed the word out carelessly, signalling he was putting an end to Dean’s teasing. Then he was wrapping his mate up in another crushing embrace. “When I gank Jake Talley and collect the bounty on his head, I’m going to take you someplace nice,” he promised. “Someplace clean, and private, and _expensive_ , and I’m going to make love to you...All night long.”

Sam's voice was so earnest, Dean had to force down the lump that instantly formed in his throat. He didn't have the heart to tease him about his painfully modest dream of a clean hotel room, or shoot down the naive notion that a pair of werewolves would be accepted anywhere expensive, whether they had cash in hand or not. So he just pulled Sam in for a sweet, lingering kiss. "That sounds real good, Sam. Let's do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who've read, left kudos and comments and whatnot! I appreciate the feedback and support.  
> Sam will get his wish sometime in the near future, so stay tuned. :)


End file.
